


Pull the Trigger(Watch Him Fly)

by solluxisaripeprick



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Death, Fake AH Crew, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5287397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solluxisaripeprick/pseuds/solluxisaripeprick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Based on the @sean-pooles fahc au on tumblr) </p><p>Ryan still wore his ring even after the accident that caused Ray's disappearance. He was hopeful, delusional, and still held onto the thought that his partner in crime was still alive. And he wasn't exactly wrong...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull the Trigger(Watch Him Fly)

You climbed up onto the rooftop, breathing in the warm air that whipped around you. The sun was setting, the sky a gradient of soft orange and pale purple. _Purple_. You spun at the ring that was practically glued onto your finger at this point, setting yourself down at edge of the roof. You placed the dirt covered gun down to your right, glancing at the ring closely. You rubbed at the titanium ring, gliding your thumb across the small engraving, _Ray_. He had one as well, with your name, of course.

You turned your attention to the gun. It took you forever to sneak this out of the place, Jack was pretty much your shadow after the events that had happened. At first you thought it was just out of concern, but now it felt claustrophobic, like you couldn’t do anything by yourself. You were just happy that they were out on a heist today, and you convinced Jack that you would be fine.

You had wiped away the dirt the gun was coated in, pink peeking out from where you hand had touched it. It was the only thing they could salvage, and you constantly wondered why it was the only thing left. Why it was left, even. Ray loved this gun, for its ironic purposes and its apparent luck, how could he just drop it? Every heist it was stuck to his hand, no matter how old and broken it got. No one-Not even you- could ever convince him to just buy a new one and paint it pink, it was special, for some reason.

Was it out of fear? Maybe. You remembered hearing a loud boom, turning around to see your partner gone. You were holding up the front, making sure that the other four were able to escape. You’ve done this many times, back to back, pretty much sacrificing your lives for the others to survive. You’ve taken blows before, and the both of you were joked to be practically immortal, but this time, it was a different story.

It was a big cloud of smoke and fire, the wind blew harshly against you, and you were in shock. You remembered hearing footsteps and a yell about saving someone, it was a muffle then as it was now. It was like Ray to rush an innocent out, even if they were known as one of the scariest gangs in town. It wasn’t like Ray to run into a bomb though.

But Ray was smart, he’d realize it, and he was quick on his toes, he should have made it out in time. He had to have made it out in time.

But he vanished.

It’s been weeks, longer than any regular disappearance recorded, but you had _hope_. Unlike anyone else.  

You watched the dark car roll into their hideout, the loud horn being repeatedly bashed by the-presumably drunk- driver. Hideout was a, very loose term used around the group. You sighed, treading back down into the building. You hid the gun deep inside your closet before heading to the first floor, plopping yourself onto the couch with a book in hand.

The four bumbled into the living room, laughter quickly flooding the room. Gavin and Michael came crashing through, arms linked together as they sang mumbled gibberish only they could understand. Geoff was going through his tired and irritated drunk phase and Jack, was just plainly exhausted.

She tiptoed towards you, gently placing her hands on the top of the couch as she asked, “You okay there?” You simply grunted in response and she folded her arms. She was going into mom mode, and oh no she wasn’t angry, just disappointed.

“Come on, Mr. Vinegar, I don’t know why you were soaking in it while we were gone.”

You heavily sighed, “ _I’m_ just trying to enjoy this very great book that I’ve been so immersed into.”

She looked at you plainly, “Ryan.”

“Jack,” you looked up at her, unsatisfied.

“Look,” she lowered, and continued in a hushed tone, “ _Is this about Ray beca_ -”

You growled, glaring straight at her. Everyone seemed to be at a halt. Michael and Geoff had darted their eyes towards Jack, who had taken a step back by now. You gripped tightly onto your book, and Geoff moved his hand across his throat to signal to cut it. By now they knew not to talk about him in front of you. You sunk back into the couch, feeling the weight of the ring on your finger.

Everyone was in on it. You couldn’t trust any of them, they spoke in whispers around you, as if you couldn’t hear. But you knew, you knew they were hiding valuable information. You heard _everything_. And they all knew about where Ray went. They all knew where he was hidden.

He was going to come back, you just could sense it. You knew, even without this gun that he left behind, that he’d make it out alive. Or at least _somewhat_ alive. He couldn’t just leave you. He couldn’t just _die_. Because if he died you would die together god dammit. Cheesy, maybe, but it was true. They were partners in crime and in life. _Till death do us part_.

And maybe? Maybe, somewhere deep inside you, you knew of his demise. It wasn’t easy to come to terms with it, so you didn’t. It was your way of coping. If you believed enough it might come true. Might.

He just had to be out there, somewhere.

* * *

 He passed a glass of beer towards her, taking a seat with his own glass in hand, “Things have been going rough for him, huh?”

She stared down at the glass, shrugging, “I don’t know. I don’t even know if we can shake it off of him.”

“Some killing has got to do the trick.” She glared at him, and he put his hands up in surrender. “What? I’m just saying the truth, boy has to get some stress out of him.”

There was just silence right after that. He sighed, taking a swig before leaning forward, “Look, I get it. But how’d you suppose us to go through with it if we can’t even mention the guy’s name.”

She shook her head, “I just don’t know. Maybe he just can’t be helped.”

“Lighten up, I’m sure he’ll get out of it on his own time. Just let him on his own for a little while, trust me,” he answered, placing a hand on her shoulder.

You were sharpening your knives. The sound of metal on metal scraping against each other was oddly soothing, and you were casually perched outside with the tools. Your facepaint had gone to shit from being caked in sweat by the blistering sun, but frankly you couldn’t give a damn.

You felt like you were being watched. You sharpened your knives louder. You growled, mumbling something under your breath. Your arms hurt, but you felt like you had to do this. It was a stress reliever, something you could do without seeing blood around you. You were on a murder break for once in your life; it just didn’t feel the same without him. Nothing really did. You were tired, irritable-usual aspects of your personality but-it didn’t feel _normal_. Everything was so dull, you were so dull. The traces of an energetic killer was no longer there, and it worried you as well as them. You glanced back, Jack and Gavin were hovering over you behind the glass. They had turned away by now. You quickened the pace. Another grunt before you turned your attention elsewhere.

However, even with the fact you were sure they had stopped observing you, you still felt like you were under a microscope. You looked around for possible suspects, nothing. It was probably _them_. It had to be them. They’ve been watching you, once Ray was taken it was your turn. You were dangerous, you needed to be taken care of as soon as possible before you cost them people. You clenched your fists and gritted your teeth, you didn’t know why, or why the gang hadn’t done anything about it. Usually once someone had disappeared for a while it was an immediate response to start searching, but they haven’t. They didn’t even put any walls up, no extra defenses.

Which was why you suspected they were all a part of the unknown’s plan. You still couldn’t wrap your head around why, but that seemed to be the only reason. Maybe they were scared. Maybe they couldn’t trust you.

You glared, forcefully sticking the knife into the ground and dropping the sharpener. You trudged over to the door, opening it slightly. They all had looked up at you and you awkwardly scuffled about, “Ah, I’m going out for a bit.” There was just an awkward silence and a few hesitant nods before you closed the door.

You headed over to the garage, picking out a neglected motorcycle in the way back, it was yours but, you never really used it. You peeled the jacket off your skin, proceeding to take off your shirt as well. You pulled out a rag from the small satchel slung around your motorcycle, wiping the paint(and sweat) off your face and put on the folded clothes inside. You put your helmet on, testing the engines before driving away.

* * *

 “I swear if I wake up to the news talking about how “Mass Murderer Strikes Again” I’m not going to bail his ass out this time,” Michael had grumbled, angrily setting his can of RedBull down. “Just because fuckface here decided to die-”

“Hey,” Geoff interjected, “If Gavin died you’d be doing the same damn thing.” More grumbling, he sighed, rubbing at his face.

“It’s just best to leave him be, Jack’s been doing enough worrying for all of us, Ryan is just doing his own thing right now.”

“Yesterday he almost burned the house down! He fucking stabbed at the earth right after he sharpened his knife fifty times _outside_. This isn’t even Ryan weird, he has class, not bottled up anger issues.”

“Unlike some people,” He rolled his eyes. “Just drop it, okay?”

 

You drove into the car port, pulling off your helmet and looked around. This was the only place you could fully say you were safe in, no one even knew you lived here. It was a secret, a getaway, a place to get away from stress. And a place to keep your plants. In fact, you headed over to your little potted plants out in the front, crouching down and getting a closer look at them. They were surprisingly doing well, you suspected the garden out back was doing good too.

“James!” You whipped around, turning your attention to a petite lady and you grinned from ear to ear, opening your arms for a hug.

“Abby, it’s been forever, how’s gran been?”

“Oh alive and kicking like usual, unlike you you prick,” She stuck her tongue out and you, softly punching you in the arm.

“A busy man does what a busy man does...yeah,” That made no sense, but you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. “Thanks for keeping my garden healthy though.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome…” She trailed off, paying closer attention to your hand. “Hey, you never told me you were married, who’s the special someone?”

You let out a small growl, “None of your business.” She took a step back, shocked by your reaction, and you kind of felt bad for doing that.

“Ookay then...Make yourself back at home again, hope you stay longer than last time...”

You nodded, turning around to face the door, unlocking it and entering the small house. You dropped your bag, everything seemed to be in order-if not dusty. This was going to be taking a bit of getting use to. There’d be no warm laughter, no clinking of glasses, and thankfully, no gunshots. However there’d be many, many books and a lot of time for the books. There’d be people he could actually trust. Hopefully this travel back would help.

Your way of sleeping, wasn’t very pretty. You were sunken into the couch, too lazy to even get up and get into bed, with a book propped up on your chest and probably drool. You had jolted up, wiping your mouth and reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. This wasn’t the hideout, you were safe. You emitted a loud sigh, picking the book up and placing it to the side.

Another strange thing. The smell of coffee. It was usually the muggy smell of beer that still overpowered the scent of coffee, if there was any.

“Must’ve been a good book, huh?” Another jolt. “Sheesh you look like you’ve seen a ghost, man where have you been? “

You waved your hand at her, getting up and walking over to the kitchen, “Places. And indeed it was a very good book, that why I fell asleep...Anyway, how’d you get in here?” She twirled the ring of keys on her finger. Right. You had given her that to keep check on the house, and for her to make food or else you were burn the house down. Enchilada night was still your speciality, however those were microwaved.

“So, why are you here. And I know, I know, you’re a private guy but-you usually don’t come here that often unless you needed to take a breather, and it’s kinda obvious that you do.”

You took a sip of you coffee, sitting yourself down on one of the stools, “It’s a, long story to say the least. Let’s just say I’m dealing with relationship issues of the platonic kind.”

“Ah, got’cha,” she winked, shuffling through your refrigerator. “You can stay here as long as you like, we got plenty of people who’ve been missing you. It’ll be like the old days.”

“Yeah..The old days...” More loud sipping of coffee, the tension was getting awkward around you two.  

There was only the loud sound of tapping on the counter, a hushed curse, and Abby whipped around.

“You’re not gonna stay here anytime soon, huh.”

“You always ask me, you know the answer. Sorry.”

“How long?”

“Two, maybe four weeks?”

“Let’s the make the best of it okay?” You nodded and she went back to preparing breakfast.

Sometimes, you did wish you could stay here. Life was easier, people were easier to understand. There was a sense of hospitality where people couldn’t just barge in loudly with new spontaneous ideas of “What ifs”. But this just wasn’t your place, you weren’t this gentle southern boy, as corny as this all sounded like. It was nice for a while but, you just had this itch. To be weird, to be creepy. That one neighbour no one really knows, and no one really wants to know. It was refreshing, the laughter and drinks and odd timing explosions. This was...normal. You couldn’t stay for long without feeling like the odd one out.

But right now, it wasn’t like that. The tension over there was sharp, one you couldn’t cut a knife with. They may have not put walls up, but they sure did metaphorically. You were on the other side of the glass, and it seemed like they couldn’t just trust you. Not like they ever _really_ did, but it was in a joking and familial way. This time it just felt like you were being pushed out. You gripped onto the mug tighter, that’s why you had to get away. You never knew if they were going to really kick you out, with a knife to the back and your vision only being dirt raining down on you.

And hey, maybe you were just being delusional. Maybe they were just concerned, you weren’t exactly acting normal, and you knew that. But you couldn’t do much about it.

You started playing with your ring now, you really had to make the best of this. You needed to forget for a while, but you didn’t want to stay too long that they’d start searching for you either.

And luckily you were able to make it out in four weeks. There were banners strewn about your house, flimsy twirling ribbons hanging down, and colorful balloons in every corner. A long table was pushed against an open wall, filled with food brought in by the neighbours and at the very middle of it was a big cake with big letters saying, “We Will Miss You!” Right by it was a small cooler filled with an assortment of sodas and beer but most importantly, Diet Coke. A little boy had ran up to you, blowing his party horn and you gently patted him on the head, smiling. He grinned back, running back towards his mom, you sent a little wave at her before making your rounds in the house.

They were hosting a big going away party, and you were actually delighted to see this many people flooding into your home. Your house was packed, with adults chatting on the couch or even by the kitchen, while their children ran about in the house, playing with the party decorations. With the amount of joy in this house it almost felt like they were celebrating your birthday. You guessed this is what happens when you usually only come for weeks at a time, and with this being your longest, they were probably to attached to just say goodbye.  

“Oh James, I still remember when you first moved into the house. Ah, you were so clumsy and shy back then…”

“Ah, Aunt Maggie, you always say that, “ You rolled your eyes, softly chuckling.

She waggled her finger, “I only speak the truth! I hope this really isn’t the last time you’ll be here dearie, just remember you’re always welcome!” You nodded, lifting your coke towards her before exiting the kitchen.

Once cake was cut and cheers were made, you were finally left by yourself. You headed into the bathroom, pulling out the facepaint you left here in the cabinet. Everyone was in their house by now and kind enough to not watch you go, so you could put this on without any suspicion. It was crucial to keep the paint on, the guys never saw your actual face, and you weren’t planning on showing anytime soon. You just snuck out when you finished and drove off.  

You tumbled into the hideout, still energetic from previous events as you opened your mouth to announce your appearance.

What you didn’t expect was the complete and utter silence that was in the room. What you didn’t expect was the mournful faces that seemed to be directed towards the TV. Jack had looked at you and her expression became pained. She slowly walked towards you and you just stood there, confused.

“Oh, Ryan, ah, I think you need to see this…” She guided you to the TV and that’s, that’s when you froze.

“DEAD BODY FOUND IN RIVER” was printed on the screen. Through blurred vision you could see in the corner a picture of Ray. You clenched your fists, Jack put a hand on your shoulder and you flinched.

He _was_ alive, he _was_ taken. He _was_  beaten and bruised and you did nothing. None of you guys did.

Maybe he wasn't coming back.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing AH so bear with me. Beats me on why I chose to make Geoff appear a lot in dialogue, but he was pretty fun to kind of write.


End file.
